Loki's Solace
by GypsySiren
Summary: What if, when Loki fell from the Bifrost, he didn't fall into Thanos' hands? What if, instead, he fell back in time to the days where there was only one planet? A planet with the legendary hero, Dovahkiin?
1. Chapter 1

**Avengers/Elder Scroll Series**

 **What if, when Loki fell from the Bifrost, he didn't fall into Thanos' hands? What if, instead, he fell back in time to the days where there was only one planet? A planet with the legendary hero, Dovahkiin? How will the story play out if Loki was the hero? Sort of…..**

Chapter 1: The Fall

 **Loki's POV**

Loki looked at his father, pleading, "I could have done it father! For you! For all of us!" he said, his green eyes glistening with pain and desperation. He silently prayed to whoever, or whatever would listen. He prayed that just this once, things would work in his favor. That his father would see that all of his actions were for the good of Asgard.

His eyes pierced into his father's icy cold gaze, trying to see that acceptance he craved so desperately. But his father's eyes held only disappointment. His father's voice pierced his heart like a poisoned dagger, spreading an icy fire throughout his veins.

"No, Loki."

No. You are not accepted. No. You are not good enough. No. No. No.

Loki looked instead to his brother. His perfect, golden bother, and then to Gungnir, the only thing between him and the swirling void below. Loki knew that it was too late. His father would never forgive him, and Thor would find out his secret and kill him just as he did so many other Jotuns.

His brother was reaching for him, begging him to take his hand. But, what was the use? No one would want to hear his side of the story. He would be painted as a villain, and Thor, as always, the hero. He had nothing left. His father has rejected him, those he once saw as friends had betrayed him, his brother attacked him without hesitation on the word of the betrayers, and soon his mother's mind too would be corrupted by the lies.

He could feel the void beneath him. When he was young, he feared falling into it's depths and suffocating on the overwhelming nothingness. But, now it seemed so inviting. It would be so easy to just give up. No more pain. Nothing but peace.

Loki closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It was the right thing to do. For everyone. When he opened his eyes, he looked at his brother, no, Thor, with resignation and clarity. It felt as if time itself slowed and his heart paused. Just as realization dawned across Thor's face, he let go.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Throat Of The World

 **Solace's POV**

The cold snow bleeds through the cracks in my leather armor, rousing me from my meditative state. The cold is irrelevant, but wet apparel makes it difficult to concentrate. I stand and groan in relief as my muscles stretch out the tension from hours of meditation. A warm gust of air indicates Paarthurnax's presence to my right. The great, silver dragon stretches his massive wings and arches his back with a huge yawn, showing razor sharp, white teeth before closing his mouth with a snap.

Paarthurnax is a very old, very ancient dragon, and his size reflects as much. his snout alone is as long as an average man and thicker than most trees. He is so large, that most dragons, save Odahviing, are only a third of his size. His teeth are like swords, and his claws like spears. Though with his enormity, also comes an equally large soul. He is one of the very few dragons, well, few beings in general, to have such kindness. His patience is as vast as Time itself, his love is great enough to surpass that of Mara, and he has wisdom unmatched by any **jor** (mortal) or **dov** (dragon), gained from seeing the truth in all life has to offer. In this world, full of war and destruction, he gives me peace. He is my bridge to sanity. My mentor.

Snow crunches under my boots as I walk to the edge of the tall mountain, the Throat of the World, and gaze out over the vast lands. I can see everything up here, and as the sun begins to set on the horizon, it's as if the world itself has changed. A red hue spreads across the land, painting a new canvas of colors. Gone are the greens and browns. In their place blooms oranges, reds, and traces of yellow, all blending together to reveal a world of flame and fire.

The ground trembles as Paarthurnax walks up to my side, laying across the snow on my right and looks to the horizon like I. His chest rumbles in appreciation at the beautiful display. With him in reach, I wrap my arm under his neck just below his jaw, and place my hand on the side of his face, pulling him closer to lay my own cheek against his. Dov are only affectionate with a select few, but Paarthurnax is my **ragnavir** , my family.

He curls his tail around my legs and leans his face further into my touch. I press my lips against his cool, silver-white scales as warm breath tousles my hair. The atmosphere is light, and peaceful, and I cannot help but feel so safe next to this great dragon who treats me as his own hatchling. I soak in all the knowledge and everything he offers me and guard his attentions jealously.

Paarthurnax and I jump with a start as an electric-like pulse pours over our senses. There is something else on the air, and it has my dragon soul screaming at me. My mentor and I turn to the time rift. It's shimmering with a brightness I have never seen. The winds pick up and started whipping all around us. Paarthurnax shields me from the eye stinging wind with one of his wings and roared out to me, " Prepare yourself **Wunduniik** (traveler), something comes."

I hover closer to the dragon's body to shelter myself further and he tilts his head to be able see me with one eye, and the rift with the other. My gaze, too, locks onto the rift as a black dot starts in the center of it and steadily expands outwards. The wind dies down, and replacing the previously clear rift is a black hole. One devoid of any light. I drew my ebony blade, shifting my weight onto the balls of my feet, adopting a fighting stance, and Paarthurnax shifts on his wings and draws himself up tall and proud, ready to shout any threat to Oblivion.

I have defeated the terrible Alduin, vanquished the tyrant Miraak, and disintegrated the evil Lord Harkon. I am the mighty Dragonborn! I am ready to fight anything that comes my way, be it daedra, **dov** (dragons), or….unconscious man?

Out of the portal fell out a still figure. I slowly step closer to the mysterious man, as he is obviously a man from his form and stature, halting as Paarthurnax's said, "Caution, **mal anahlrii** (little one). We know not where this **tiid rovaaniik** , this time wanderer, came from." I nodded and knelt next to the figure and brushed inky hair away to reveal a handsome, aristocratic face. He has the sharp features like the mer as well as the lean, tall build, but has rounded ears.

He seems ageless, another characteristic fitting of an elf. His armor is unlike any I have seen. It's base consists of a flexible but durable green and black leather with many buckles and an overlay of metal armor pieces that look to be gold. But gold is not strong enough to be much protection. Perhaps it is enchanted? It is possible, especially considering his exceptional magical strength. Although he is significantly drained, I can feel his magic flowing just below his skin. It feels like a sea storm, swirling with uncontrollable chaos.

He also seems to be unarmed. Nothing strapped to his side, or his boots. Then again, he may have his own inventory like I do. I press my forefinger and middle finger to his neck to find his pulse, then turn back to Paarthurnax to tell him, " He lives, but he weakens." I look to the darkening sky. If night falls before we get him somewhere wa berm, he might not survive the cold. To make matters worse, a snowflake fell from the sky and landed on my nose. Soon, another followed, and then another, and another, until snow began lazily drifting from the sky.

As I turn back to the man, I see snow landing on his skin. I blink in surprise as his skin slowly turns to a deep blue, intentional-looking scars decorating the skin I can see. When I touch the side of his face, I quickly recoil, Paarthurnax growling and coming closer to stand right behind me. I reassure him that I'm fine and was only startled, but he stays right at my back just in case.

The man's skin is so cold it feels like ice magic. Luckily my skin is naturally resistant to most things due to my dragon blood, so his strange protection ward causes me no pain. I gather him in my arms and struggle to throw him over my shoulder. Even with enhanced strength, I find his weight uncomfortable to lift. I turn to Paarthurnax and ask, " **Dii fahdon** (my friend), will you bear us to my home so that I may care for our guest?"

He looks wary of doing so and voices as much," Are you sure **mal anahlrii** (little one)? I have never seen nor heard of such a being, and his **sahlon** (scent) is not of this time. **Rok vust fon haskei** , he could be dangerous."

I contemplate his words and reply, "Perhaps, but so am I. I can handle it if he turns hostile, but there is also a possibility that he is just lost. I cannot very well leave him to die here in the cold on something that **aal uv aal ni kos** (may or may not be)."

Paarthurnax mulls over my words before humming in agreement, " Your words have **onikaan** , wisdom. I will fly you to your dwelling. But, if you should find yourself in need of me, **Peyl fan zey**. Call my name."

At his words Paarthurnax lowers his himself closer to the ground and I heave my new guest right behind his head, and sit behind the man to keep him from falling. I grip the soft leather of the collar of the man's armor with one hand,keeping him steady, and hold tight to one of Paarthurnax's horns with the other. Paarthurnax shifts all his weight to his hind legs and raises his wings, gathering the air beneath his powerful limbs. Then, with a mighty thrust he lurches into the air as I tense, using my body to hold the man and I tightly against Paarthurnax's as he climbs above the tallest rocks on the mountain. When Paarthurnax levels, we circle until facing west-northwest. I begin to relax, as we are no longer defying gravity and lean closer to Paarthurnax, laying across the man's back. The dragon tucks his wings about halfway and sets into a dive going diagonally down the mountain side. He fully extends his wings and glides above the treetops, no effort needed as the winds of the mountain carry him still.

Paarthurnax and his two passengers head, unseen against the clouded night sky, to a beautiful manor overlooking a small lake. The lake ripples and the ground trembles at the force of the glorious silver-white dragon landing us in front of my house.I slide off his neck and once more lift the man over my shoulder, lugging him towards the door of my home, pausing as Paarthurnax called out, " Be careful **fahdon** , friend. And remember, I will always come when you call." With that, he takes to the skies to return to his mountain, and my guest and I are welcomed by the warmth of Lakeview Manor. I walk through the entry way, through the dining area, and into the left room. In the room are three beds. One double-bed on the left, mine, and two unoccupied single beds on the right. As I did not need sleep, it was only fitting that I let the not-so-short raven use my large bed. So, I pull back the covers on my bed with one arm while keeping the man on my shoulder with the other. I then lower him as softly as I can manage and pull the covers up to his chest.

Sighing heavily I retrieve two chairs from the dining room and set them next to the bed the stranger lays in, sitting in one and resting my feet on the other, my feet crossed at the ankles. Shifting a bit I attempt to get somewhat comfortable on the hard surfaces. I sit there watching the man for any sign of waking before I close my eyes and focus on my soul, feeling the other souls of those I have defeated within my own. They sing to me, offering me knowledge and power, but now is not the time. For now, I focus on that power deep in my belly, the thunderous force of my **Thu'um**. Soon I feel myself pulled into the fiery depths, and I lose myself to the inferno.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A New Time

 **Loki's POV**

Food. Why do I smell such wonderful, delicious, and intoxicating aromas? I'm alone, in the void. Falling, and falling for eternity. And yet, I can feel silky sheets against my skin. I can feel the soft cloud beneath my head.

I shift my body slightly, and take in the smell of food, spices, and something unknown. It is overwhelming after so long of smelling nothing and hearing only silence. I can hear so much now. Small things like birds singing, wind rustling through trees, and the creaking of wooden floor boards, and more prominent sounds. Sounds like someone rummaging through dishes and cutlery, and an animal skittering around, claws clacking on the ground.

I slowly peeled my heavy eyelids open, and pushed myself up to a sitting position. Everything is blurry as I squint, trying to come into focus. The first sight to greet me as my sight clears is a large room. Straight across from me are two small beds, with two nightstands in between them. In the middle-left there is a large bookshelf filled with books of all sizes, and a sizeable chest at the foot of the large double-bed I am laying on. Then to the middle-right there are two doors. One closer to the single-beds, and one closer to the double bed. Lining the walls are shelves, full of strange trinkets and colorful, bottled liquids.

I jump in surprise as a large canine jumped on the same bed as I am on. His fur is a deep brown, almost black everywhere other than his face, chest, and belly, which is a stark white. He resembles a wolf, but his fur is thicker, and his ears are smaller. His tongue is rolled out to the side as he sits on his haunches next to my legs.

He seems peaceful enough, but I am still wary. He is an unknown. Just as everything around me is. there is no way I can be here, wherever here is. The void is just that. A void. Perhaps I am hallucinating, but then again, no. It is far to lucid. Little is known about the void other than no one ever returns from a venture into it's depths. Perhaps it is more like a portal than a void, or perhaps it had a break; a crack. There is too much unknown.

My body tensed and my eyes darted to movement near the doorway. Striding in my direction with feline grace is a woman. She stops about halfway to the bed, either for my comfort or hers. She is tall for a woman, only about a head shorter than myself. Her skin is the likeness of gold, and hair like liquid rubies, pulled back into a braid that hung between her shoulder blades with two strands of hair on either side of her face. Her face is angular, with pale gold lips, a small, but sharp nose, and eyes of different colors. Her right eye is an iridescent green, and her left, an icy, iridescent, light blue. She is obviously an elf from her large, pointed ears and almost unrealistic beauty.

Her armor is almost as impressive as she herself. It is fine, scaled, ebony-colored armor with a silver designs decorating the entirety. It hugs all of her curves like a second skin. Her armor in addition with the beautiful sword hanging from her hips, made of a material that resembles black glass, and a bow with arrows of the same strange material, gives her the same beauty that a wild feline might have. The kind of beauty admired from a safe distance.

Her stance is balanced, and relaxed. Not one of which one would expect from someone with a potentially dangerous person in their home. She obviously does not feel threatened by my presence, and that both annoys, and worries me. It annoys me because although I have low energy, my magic is great in both quantity and strength. However, it makes me uneasy because, as an elf, she should be able to feel my magic. And if she still seems so indifferent, she must be either very arrogant, or a very formidable force. Knowing elves, it was likely both.

She gestured to a steaming, wooden bowl in her hands. Her voice is like low waves lapping against the seashore. It flows softly, but with the power to wipe out entire civilizations shimmering just below the surface,

"I thought you might be hungry."

She began inching towards me while I watch avidly.

" Stew will help you regain your strength. Something you will need in these lands," she says as she stands about a foot from the bed, offering the food.

I look at her and the stew cautiously. Hungry, but wary of the golden elf's intentions, something that she notices. One side of her mouth quirks up and she tilts her head to the side, saying, " I wouldn't have went through the trouble of dragging your arse all the way here, from the top of **Monahven** , the highest mountain in Skyrim no less, just to poison you now."

Her tone is teasing, and I consider refusing it just to spite her. But she speaks the truth. I do need my strength. Besides, my magic would destroy any poison that enters my bloodstream.

As I reach for the bowl I gasp in shock; the skin of my forearms has turned to a deathly shade of blue! What magic or poison has struck me!? Am I dying!? I frantically claw at my arms as if I can peel the taint away.

Calloused hands are wrapped around my wrists holding them tight. It is the elf! She looks at me with her brows lowered in confusion, and, concern? No! It's another trick! My heart hammers against my chest, each breath a strain.

" **Helt** (stop)! You are injuring yourself!" Her words echo through my head as I try to grasp their meaning. I am having trouble focusing. All I know is that my skin shouldn't look this way. As I stare at my now scratched and bleeding arms, it hits me hard and I feel disappointed in myself. How silly of me to lose my composure. Not at all behavior fitting for a prince of Asgard. This is _my_ blue skin. It tells of the monster inside me. The monster that _is_ me. If only I could cut that horrible beast out. But, you cannot very well cut out a piece of yourself.

The woman lets go of me after seeing that I've calmed myself. I continue to stare at my arms, blank faced as she straightens and turns, announcing, " I will go and fetch some bandages. **Kriid,** will keep you company." She leaves the room with the forgotten bowl of stew, and I sigh. The canine must be this, **Kriid.** I look at **Kriid** curiously. He licks his chops and shifts his weight while looking at me. I do not recognize the language his name is in. It is nothing that I have heard before. Neither have I heard of this, Skyrim, that the elf mentioned.

" I have brought bandages and some warm water. Will you allow me to clean and bandage your wounds?", came the voice of the woman as she walks over with a bucket with a rag on the rim, and some fresh, cloth bandages. I look at her warily before nodding my consent. If she meant to kill me, there would have already been an attempt, and my aching muscles and pounding headache protest greatly against any more movement. She sits in a chair to the right of the bed I had not noticed before and holds the bucket between her knees before gently pulling my arms closer to her. She dips the rag into the bucket and squeezed out the excess water, then set to cleaning my wounds. I flinch slightly at the sting, then I relax as much as I dare near the stranger. Though, staying alert is difficult when your mind and body just want to sleep.

I look to the woman's eyes as she spoke quietly to me, " I do not suppose you are willing to explain why you clawed your arms."

"No"

"Thought not."

She began to wrap my arms in soft white bandages. Then she spoke again, " Surely you will allow me to know the name of my new guest?" she said with one raised brow. I consider telling her my name, and can not find a reason not to. Besides, I wish to know her name. I cannot keep referring to her as "she-elf" or "woman". Plus, it is only common courtesy. One which she has at least earned for not leaving me to whatever may roam these lands.

"My name is Loki. Of Asgard. Might I, in turn, know the name of the fair maiden that has cared for me thus far?"

She seems to sit taller at my compliment.

" **Drem Yol Lok** (greetings). My name is Solace, but you may save your honeyed words for another."

I grin as she tries to deny that my silvertongue had any effect on her. She clearly enjoys compliments. An easy weakness to exploit.

" I have not heard of this, Asgard."

"As I have not heard of this, Skyrim."

She finishes up her task, sets the bucket to the floor and looks into my eyes, seemingly in thought.

" You fell. Through a time rift. I happened to be nearby when you did so. You could have fallen backwards, or forwards. Either way, it was a long time for you to not have heard of Skyrim. We are on Nirn, in the kingdom of Skyrim, one of 8 kingdoms that make up this seemed to be a Breton at first, but your skin changed into the likeness of the Dunmer. Both have known of Skyrim for quite some time."

I see her questioning look at the mention of my skin changing. I poke my magic, and it sends out a slight flare. "This skin is temporary. It will fade as my magic returns to me."

She nods in acceptance. No scathing words fell from her lips. She breathes no word of magic being a woman's trade. Not even a laugh at my expense. Is a man practicing magic not as taboo here as it was on Asgard?

Did I fall forwards? Is Thor king now? Being in the future would explain the odd armor and objects. Then again, so would being in the past if you went back far enough. That's it! My eyes widened in surprise. It couldn't be! Could it? Could I really fall that far?

Solace notices my expression and asks, " Loki? What is it?"

I respond thoughtfully, " I knew I recognized that word you used, Nirn. I read it in a book. But, it was just a theory!"

"And that theory was?"

I sigh and run my hand through my hair, wincing at the friction of the bandages against my arm.

" Where I come from, there are nine realms. Different planets that the races live on. Yet, it is theorized that at one point, we all lived on one planet called Nirn."

"An interesting theory. So you believe that you are of the future?"

"It is my best guess, as well as what is most likely."

Her eyes bore into mine with intensity. " Not to long before you, someone else fell through the same gap as you did. **Alduin**. He then attempted to burn the world to ash. What do you intend to do here?"

"I did not plan to come here. It was by mistake. I have no knowledge of this time, and so I am no threat to it."

She seems to accept my words as truth,"Very well. You may remain here, and I will teach you to survive on this world. However, I do this not out of kindness of my heart. Your magic is strong. Almost as strong as a **dovah** , a dragon. You will aid me on my adventures. With us together, not but few will be able to challenge us."

I consider her words. She offers unlimited information on this world for my companionship. I see no downside to her offer. I get I'm formation, and judging by her words, power.

" I will agree to this arrangement, though, I must gather my strength before setting on a quest."

She gives me a slight smirk before emotionlessness falls back over her features.

" Good. Sleep. We shall speak on the morrow."

I want to protest. There are so many questions I wish to ask. But, I am indeed tired. I am not even close to half my full strength. I need to regain it so I might hide this hideous blue behind my skin. I nod and lay my head against the pillow, watching as Solace calls **Kriid** and leaves the room with the bucket and the forgotten stew. Though my internal clock is screaming at me that it is day, my need for sleep over rules it and I am soon succumbing to the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Unexpected Visitors

 **Solace's POV**

I walk out of the room that loki is resting in and set the bucket under the left staircase, Kriid running off upstairs. I move to undo my armor, but think better of it. I do not want to be vulnerable to attack. This Loki character has not yet earned my trust. I should not have brought him here. I should have brought him to the Greybeards. I felt his magic and could not help myself. As a dragon, power calls to me, and he is full of it.

I let out a deep breath as I settle into a dining room chair and set down the bowl of stew Loki did not eat. What could have possessed Loki to tear at his own arms as he did? It was not the offering of the stew. It seemed to happen when he caught sight of his arms. He seemed to be trying to tear off his own skin. Why? If he is a shifter, than should he not be used to having different skins?

I pull out a dwarvish book I found within the ruins of Mzulft from within my inventory and begin to read. I become immersed in tome after tome. I enjoy the peace as I read by the light of the scones.

The night passed by as I read, and as daylight hits, my book is interrupted as a knock resounds throughout the house. A courier perhaps? I place the books back in my inventory, stand and make my way to the door, checking my weapons as I go. As I unlock the door and crack it open to reveal five dirty, beat up Stormcloaks. One of them I recognize as Ralof, the Stormcloak I escaped Helgen with. It has been so long I doubt he remembers me. Fifteen years to be exact, and it shows through the slight grey peaking through his blond beard. He has been promoted, judging by his Officer's armor.

They seem hesitant to speak, and I feel anger stir as I realize it is likely because of my race. I raised my brows and ask,"Well? Is there something you need?" grinning internally as they Ralof stumbles over his words.

"I apologize for disturbing you, ma'am, but myself and my troops were attacked near an old ruin. Our numbers were cut low, and the remaining are wounded. We were looking for shelter from the incoming storm when we happened upon your home. We ask if you might have any medical supplies?"

I can see there nervousness. They were likely going to ask for shelter as well, that is, before they discovered the resident was an elf.

"Who, or what were you attacked by?" I ask, not wanting to get between them and the Imperials, or, Divines forbid, the Thalmor.

"Well, that's kind of a long tale." he says sheepishly.

"I see," I reply, considering whether or not to aid them. I don't need any more potential danger. My ears twitch as I hear movement coming up behind me. As I turn, a tall, slender figure at the entrance to the dining room catches my eye.

"Ah, Loki. I am terribly sorry for all the noise. Soldiers aren't very good house guests."

He looks at me in confusion, then looks at the soldiers he can see over my shoulder. He appears much better, and it has only been one night. His raven hair frames his face, and his green cape is slightly askew. His blue frame is slightly leaning against the rim of the entry way and looks as if he is dizzy, but by how weak he was only this morning, it is a huge improvement.

The Stormcloaks stand at the door, shifting on their feet and looking around. I let out a deep sigh, this has been a long day already, and it's only noon! I open the door all the way while stepping to the side. I do not like either side of this civil war, and want no part in it, but Ralof assisted me 15 years ago. The least I can do is patch him up, and his troops if must be.

"You may come in. I have stew already made. Though, you will have to leave your weapons at the door."

The soldiers appear taken aback, and one turns to Ralof and whispers quite loudly,"Sir! She could be a spy, working for the Thalmor! She has asked us to disarm ourselves in our weakened state! Surely she can be up to nothing good."

My temper flares as I see Ralof and the other men look at me suspiciously. The idiot soldier did not take into account my more sensitive ears. Does he really think I cannot hear him?! My eyes darken in anger and I return with an eerily calm demeanor, " Do not presume that just because I am a High elf that I align with the Thalmor. The only reason I have agreed to help you racist milk-drinkers is because Ralof onced aided me in escape from execution. Though, if you think you can make it to Falkreath in your condition, you are free to try."

The soldiers look to Ralof as he slowly remembers who I am. His eyes light up in recognition his stance immediately becomes more open and friendly.

" I do remember you!" he says enthusiastically," We escaped Helgen together! I thought for sure I'd never see you again after you set out for Whiterun! You haven't changed a bit have you!"

I smirked slightly. I have no clue how he got so far in the ranks being so utterly naive. How is he not dead? He is lucky I do not plan to harm him or his people. Unless of course, they displease me too much.

"Come on in Ralof, but keep your men quiet. I don't like loud noises," I say as I turn and walk inside, standing next to Loki at the entrance to the dining room to make sure they do as they're told.

Loki and I watch as they enter one by one, Ralof ordering them to remove their weapons. They all do so reluctantly, leaning axes and daggers against the wall next to the door. One of the soldiers, a young Nord, not even old enough to grow a beard yet, huffs in anger and points in my direction," Why does she stay armed? Shouldn't she remove her weapons as well?" he asks.

I respond quickly, interjecting Ralof,"My home, my rules."

Ralof nods his agreement, telling the New Blood, "We are in her home, we will abide by her wishes. Is that understood, Ragnir?"

The soldier glares at me stiffly,"Understood, sir."

"Good, Now that that's settled, follow me into the dining room. Quietly." I say, spinning around to lead Loki and the group to their seats.

As the soldiers gather at the end of the table, I head to the cooking pot and spoon out some stew for Loki and the men. Placing a bowl in front of Loki first, then in front of each of the soldiers. The soldiers dug into the stew ravenously, not even waiting for , however, held the stew with both his hands patiently. I give Loki a spoon and sit in the seat next to Ralof.

When the Stormcloaks finish their meal, I move closer to the Officer, letting him lean back in his chair while I examin him. He has three deep gashes, a broken nose, and a nasty burn on the left side of his face. I wanted to heal Loki, as he was my guest first, but I wished to get rid of the soldiers as soon as possible. I should use it on the others first and save Loki for when they have left. I doubt he wants the attention in front of the Stormcloaks.

I call the Healing Hands spell to both of my hands this time as I push the warm energy towards Ralof. I could feel that Loki was watching. Ralof's cuts are mended together and his burns are smoothed over with new skin, the entire healing process taking no more than a few seconds. As I lower my hands and cancel my spell, Ralof sits, not a scar in sight.

Ralof grunts in appreciation and as I move on to the man right next to him I said, "So, tell me what transpired."

Ralof responded, " We were marching on Ulfric's orders, when we came across a group of bandits. There were 8 or so, and we thought the twelve of us had them covered. And we did. We were winning. Cut them down to only two left. Then out of nowhere, three Spriggans arrive. By then, the bandit's patrol group, or hunting party, returned, bringing their numbers back to eight. A three way battle broke out. The bandit's only lost one member before getting smart. They retreated into the cover of the tree's, leaving us between a cliff side and the Spriggans. We fought hard as we could. Didn't help that they kept getting the foxes and rabbits to bite at us. I suppose I should be grateful that there were no bears near enough for their magic to work on."

As he finished his tale, I finished healing the last soldier and brought out some sweet rolls from a chest under the right staircase. As the Stormcloaks devoured the sweet pastry, Loki ignored his in favor of watching the soldiers and myself. I gather the bowls and set them next to the fire place, then return to the table and sit away from the others, asking Ralof, " What about the bandits?"

I hear his muffled reply, " Don't Know. They didn't come back. I assume they fled."

I turn to look at him with my arms crossed, astounded at the utter idiocy of these Nords. " I am beginning to wonder how you made it to Officer. You honestly think bandits, known for throwing themselves in front of dragon fire just to get a few septims, just ran away from such an easy target? You five were exhausted and injured. I'm willing to bet they followed you."

Ralof looks offended, and his men sit straighter, setting down their rolls down, ready to defend their Officer's honor. Ralof, too, set down his pastry, raising his index finger and starting, " Now hold on just a minute…"

An angry banging on the door and loud shout interrupted him, " Come out now and hand over all your items and we'll make this easy on you!" The voice was gravelly and rough.

The Stormcloaks, Loki, and I look to the door in silence, then another shout sounded, " Come out now, or we'll burn down the house!" I growled deep in my throat, pulling my ebony bow into my left hand as I stand and glide over to the door, Stormcloaks stumbling over themselves to follow with Loki silently taking up the rear. These bandits and soldiers aren't very quiet.

The soldiers snatch up their weaponry in a mad scramble, making me wince at the loud chaos they are creating, and loki just stands by the dining room entryway again. I reach for the doorknob,ready to tear the trespassers to shreds, when a hand on my wrist stopped me. "What are you thinking!?" Ralof whispered to me urgently.

I shake his hand off and look at him with a stony expression, " They are causing quite the ruckus. I am going to relieve them of their breathing privileges."

"Are you crazy? You'll get yourself killed!"

I open my mouth to respond, though I am interrupted by the same, obnoxiously loud bandit. " I'll give you to the count of three! One….Two.."

I rip open the door, put my finger to my lips, saying, " Shhh!" before slamming it shut in the bandit's face. The Stormcloaks look at me incredulously, but Loki looks slightly amused.

The banging get's even louder and I tell the soldiers, " Stay back. You'll only get in the way."

Loki stands tall, and walks up to me with his arms crossed, bandages hidden under his long sleeves, "There could be quite a few of them."

" There may be, if they were smart and brought reinforcements.", I say, unsure he'll be much help in his condition.

"It would be unwise to take on so many alone."

"And that is why we go together!" Raloff adds in, his troops nodding and cheering in agreement.

Loki spares him a glance before turning back to me, " Even If you all went, there is no way to know the odds. You may be running into twenty-strong."

"And what would you suggest, _gray-skin_?" asks a thick, red haired soldier heatedly, not seeing Loki's rounded ears behind his hair.

Loki only glances at the ginger in confusion at being called a "grey-skin" before resuming, " I do believe we should plan this out. If we cannot drive them away with blade, we shall use our wits"

I sling my bow back over my shoulder and tilt my head to the side, reevaluating my guest. A thinker. And here I was, just going to stand in the doorway and shoot them all. Though, I like where he is going. Nothing wrong with taking your time to plan out and enjoy it.

"Very well, though driving them away is not an option. We will be allowing them to live with the knowledge of my whereabouts. I do not want them to return, especially when I am out and not here to protect my estate."

" Then we need to hit them hard and fast. It would be best if we got all of them at once," Loki says, crossing one arm over his chest and the other arm coming up to tap his fingers against his lower lip as he thought. He stops tapping and asks, "Do you have some flammable substance? Preferably something transportable?"

I smirk, "Yes, I believe I do," I say, thinking of the barrel of oil in the storage room in the back.

Loki returns my smirk with a wolfish grin and reveals his plan.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Burn, Bandits, Burn

 **Bandit's POV**

The bandit leader is exasperated. The inhabitant of the large manor they followed the soldiers to shushed him while he was threatening her rather beautiful estate, and her very life. The nerve of the Altmer irked him to no end as he huffed in anger, and started down the steps. They'll just set the place ablaze and put out the flame when everyone inside has suffocated.

He turns sharply as the door slams open. There, standing proud, is the she-elf. Under her boot a large, wooden barrel looked at him coolly, no expression on her face. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked light as she said evenly, " How about some payment, to fuel your departure?"

The bandit leader glanced to his men, then back at the crazy elf just in time to throw himself to the ground as she kicked the barrel, and it flew over his head, shot through the air, bounced, and rolled to where his men stand. He watched as the woman held up her right hand, and fire started to dance between her fingertips and a solid looking ball of fire formed to hover over her palm.

Thrusting her hands forward, she sent the ball of fire hurtling to the barrel. A loud bang resounded through the bandit's head, making his ears ring as the barrel exploded in a fiery blaze of fury. Some of his men were turned to little but ash, as they stood so close to the barrel, but the unlucky were burning to death as the fire consumed them. He stands up, a bit unsteady and sprints as fast as he can away from the horror.

POV - Loki

I see Solace sigh in disappointment at the retreating figure.

"It seems as if one is getting away," I say, watching the running bandit stumble towards the dirt road heading around the lake in front.

She pulls out her bow and knocks an arrow in one fluid motion. Through her form fitting armor, I see her tense and stretch her back and shoulder muscles as she draws the weapon, enjoying the feeling of the weight of her bow. She takes her time, as she breaths in deeply. On her exhale, she releases her arrow. The moment that the arrow was gone from her fingers, it was straight through the back of the last bandit's head. She slings her bow back over her shoulder as the blue-clad men emerge from the manor, taking in the scene. Their axes hang unused and useless by their sides. I watch the armed warriors warily as we all walk to the charred skeletons. Solace nudges one of them as if checking to make sure they're really dead. I watch on in amusement, but the leader of the axemen looks at her as if she is insane. He looks at the remains and says, "I know they were nothing but common bandits, but wasn't this just a bit…..brutal? We could have fought them honorably, with sword and axe."

I am immediately annoyed by his attitude. his ideals are unrealistic and too much like the hot-headed warriors three. Did no one see intelligence as honorable? Solace cocks her head and says in her normal monotone voice, "I quite like how things turned out."

At least _she_ is not an idiot. The same cannot be said for her companions. I do hope I get to keep her.

POV - Solace

I sneak a glance in Loki's direction before heading back to the house. He is quite an interesting fellow, and definitely entertaining. Hopefully I won't have to kill him. It does get so very dull around here.

I sit down in the dining room, and watch as the others file in. Ralof, then his troops, then, once again trailing behind, Loki. Ralof sat one chair over from me, giving me odd looks, while his men stood awkwardly around him. I have, apparently, made them uncomfortable. Loki, on the other hand, gracefully sat across from me. He seems to be alert to everything around him, but I can see traces of tiredness. I do not recognize his magic. It is different, and, therefore I cannot tell how strong it is supposed to be, nor how long it will take until he's fully recovered.

I stand and fetch a clean bowl, and warm the stew with a simple fire spell before placing some in front of Loki. He already ate one bowl, but he must be still hungry. Though, he does not seem to be the kind to ask for it. So, I set down a spoon and a bowl of more stew.

Allowing Loki to eat without being watched like a hawk, I turn instead to Ralof and his merry band of axe-swingers. Completely ignoring the tension between us, I state, " You should probably be on your way back to Windhelm. If you leave now, you can reach falkreath before nightfall."

Ralof shifts in his seat and crosses his arms, "We cannot abandon our mission. Jarl Ulfric will not be pleased if we return without what we were sent for."

"I'm sure he will be even less happy if you die by the hand of a bandit or a Spriggan due to hardheadedness."

Ralof grew silent in thought before saying, "You're right, but you should join us in Windhelm. The Rebellion is always looking for capable warriors, and Skyrim is not only for the Nords."

I set my feet up on the chair between us and crossed them at the ankles. Ralof's men shuffle their feet uneasily at his words.

"Most of your precious rebellion does not share your opinion, Ralof. I owe allegiance to neither the Stormcloaks, nor the Legion. I will have no part in a war in which both sides are complete morons. This civil war is at a complete stop. Neither can beat the other, for you are both equal in stupidity."

Ralof raised from his seat and placed a hand on the table, "We are at a crossroad. And the solution is to gain more supporters."

"All holds but Whiterun have chosen a side, and Jarl Balgruuf is determined to stay neutral."

"Exactly! That is our mission! Whomever has Whiterun wins the war!"

"Then none will win the war. Whiterun is on it's own side, and it has the Dragonborn as a protector."

The mention of the Dragonborn has the intended effect as the Stormcloaks became more alert and wary of facing the wrath of the legend. The ginger-haired soldier asked, "You know the Dragonborn?"

"I know that she is Thane of the hold you intend to pester, that is all. You should leave, now, or you will be caught in the dark. I also suggest you inform Ulfric of the new information. I hear the Dragonborn is very protective of her hold."

Ralof nods at me, "Thank you for your assistance. We would have surely fell to those bandits if not for you, and your husband." he says also nodding in Loki's direction.

Loki begins to choke on the sweetroll he got ahold of. As he coughs and sputters, I laugh. All the while the Stormcloaks shake their heads in confusion and leave the manor.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Questions and Answers

 **Solace's POV**

My laughter dies down and I stand when I hear the door click shut. Loki still has half a sweetroll and some stew sill leftover, and resumes eating his stew after composing himself. I walk over and sit in the seat next to Loki, aware of him watching me out of the corner of his eye. We sat in silence as he finished his meal..

I hold out my hands, " Let me check your wounds."

He moves both arms over to me, all movements slow and cautious.

He looks at me silent, evaluating, while allowing me to unwrap the bandages on one of his arms. His wounds have not healed at all over the last few hours. His magic must be focusing on rebuilding itself. I pull my Magic to my hands, a swirling ball of golden light surrounding my palm. Loki's head jerks up at the bright light and stiffens in alarm. I reassure him, " No need to worry, it's only restoration magic. The same sort I used on the soldiers."

Loki only relaxes slightly. He looks at me as if he wants to ask a question, but said nothing. I hover my glowing hand over Loki's arm and he tenses again slightly, but then just observes curiously as flesh mends itself back together. He then offered the second arm eagerly, a look of interest on his face before he hides it behind a mask of indifference.

After I heal his other arm, I catch his eye. They are red, I notice, just like the dark elves, "I know you need to rest, and my home is open to you until we can find a way to return you to your time. However, I need to go to town. It is not far, and we can go at a slow pace. But in order for you to be able to travel, you need to gain as much energy as you can. Therefore, I want you to rest for the next two days. I cannot wait much longer than that."

Loki inclines his head in understanding, much like the nobles do, " Am I right in assuming it has something to do with the visit of the soldiers?"

"Yes."

"I would think you would be reporting their plans, but you said you are not on either side. Was that a lie to gain their trust?"

I lean back against my chair, facing him, " No, it was not a lie. I am on neither side, but I am reporting their plans. I am sending a letter to Jarl Ulfric of Whiterun."

" The place that has refused to take part in the war. You are going to warn their leader."

" Exactly. They need time to prepare. They have guards, not soldiers. If they were attacked by an army they would need additional help."

" If they are attacked by one side, they will have no choice but to join the other side."

I stand and lean against the table, looking determinedly at the wall, " I will not allow that to happen. Whiterun is the only hold not involved in this madness, and I'm going to keep it that way. I have allies, and I will call in a few favors," I say as I look back to Loki, "Whiterun will not fall."

He looks into my eyes with an unreadable expression. Some minutes pass, neither of us willing to be the first to look away.

"This war you speak of, what has caused it?"

"That is a long story, so I'll shorten it up for you," I say, crossing my arms, " This war was first started by a different war. The war between the Empire, Skyrim being part of it, and the Aldmeri Dominion, the high elves. The high elves were upset at the Empire's worship of Talos, a man who became a divine. The high elves thought that if any should ascend to be a divine, it should be a Altmer, one of them. The war was won by the Aldmeri Dominion, and as the victors, they outlawed the worship of Talos. Skyrim was hit the hardest, because it is one of their gods. Thalmor agents were sent here to enforce all of the Aldmeri's commands. That includes capturing and torturing those who still worship Talos. Ulfric Stormcloak started a rebellion to take back Skyrim, but has a superiority complex as strong as the Thalmor. The war has been going on for over 15 years, and none have won. The Empire will not send reinforcements, wary of another war with the Dominion."

Loki absorbs the information, ready for even more, " The ten races you mentioned, what are they?"

"Ten _mortal_ races, and that's just in Tamriel. I was also not accounting for the dragons, or many forms of Daedra."

I see the look of eager curiosity on his face and speak before he can ask another question, " There are many books on the shelf in the main bedroom. They will likely satisfy your curiosity. There should also be some on magic."

He looks interested, not even bothering to hide it any more. He stands and heads towards the room, but halts half way.

"Why did you not tell me that you studied magic?" Loki asks.

"Why did you not tell me that you are a noble?"

Loki starts in surprise, " How did you know?"

I smirk in satisfaction. "I did not know for sure, but you have proven my theory. The way you speak, the way you walk, the entire way you compose yourself states upper class."

Loki stands silent for a while, thinking, then says quietly, "I appreciate your assistance. I will be strong enough to travel by your given time." He disappears through the doors holding the answers he desires.

I can understand his curiosity. I too am curious about his time, but I know he will be more giving if he has first received. I walk out the front door and look at the mess in my yard. I have quite the clean up job on my hands.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Books and Letters

 **Loki's POV**

I sit on the bed, surrounded by books, eagerly absorbing the information on this strange world. Based on some Thalmor documents, and a book called " _The Bear of Markarth",_ I can understand Solace wanting nothing to do with either side.

The maps of this world indicate that this is the Northernmost country of a large continent, all of the countries having their own unique biomes and creatures. All have their own unique natives as well, most interestingly including bipedal cats and lizards.

Though this situation I have fallen into creates some issues, I cannot say I do not enjoy all of the knowledge of our ancestors. The knowledge I now have access to is that which all nine holds have not been able to obtain.

I can draw the conclusion that the Nords are the ancestors of the Asgardians. It also seems as if they have kept most of their culture, except the Asgardians live several thousand years. The elves, however, have a long lifespan on here and in the nine realms. Seeing as there are only Light and Dark elves in the future, it is possible that one of the elf races breed with the Nords to create the race of Asgardians. The Dark elves here are not the same as the ones that live on Svartalfheim, and instead take on similar attributes of the Jotuns. The differences being height and their power over ice. The High elves, or even the wood elves could have become the Light elves.

There are races that do not have any connection, for instance, no creatures matching the Khajiit and the Argonians have been seen. In turn the Dwarves have disappeared here, but are very much alive in the future. Perhaps they were cast to the future like I to the past. There is also the Fire Giants. They might be connected to the Daedra, but there is not enough material on the species. The only information found is on their princes.

With a piece of charcoal and a blank scroll I found, I jot down the similarities and differences between the species I know of in my time, and the ones living here. I roll up the scroll and put it and the charcoal on the night stand, dusting the black powder from my hands. A black book with no title catches my eye. I pull it from the pile of books I gathered on the bed. It has a silver dragon on the cover, but no other markings. I open the book, to see the title on the page inside, " _The Book of the Dragonborn"_. Solace mentioned the dragonborn, saying that she guards Whiterun. The Stormcloaks seemed to both admire and fear the name.

As I read the book, it answers questions, but arises them as well. It says that Akatosh, presumably a god, gifted a mortal with his blood, the blood of a dragon, which explains the name. It says that a dragonborn is a great dragon slayer and absorbs the power of killed dragons. It also mentions a prophecy. Has it yet to unfold?

I remove myself from the bed and gather the books, placing them back on the shelf. The book provides me with answers, but also a string of questions to ask Solace. I do not like to rely on anyone, for anything, but I have little choice in this matter. I lay back on the bed and put my hands behind my head. I need to rest before the trip, but my thoughts distract me.

Solace has been nothing but welcoming and helpful, but she hides something dark. When she walks, it is light, as a cat stalking prey. When she killed the bandits, she enjoyed it. Thor and Sif and the Warrior Three become ecstatic at the thought of battle, but they enjoy the honor and glory. Most would find no honor in burning the enemy alive, yet her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

Regardless of her nature, she holds information of this time, and therefore my survival. Book are well and good for information, but do not provide the practical things, like what to avoid mentioning to what races. In two days she leaves for town, intending to take me along. While I am with her I will watch how she behaves, how she converses with the people. I will consent to this partnership she offers, and If I can convince her to aid me in my return to my time, it will be that much quicker.

I sit up with my head in my hands. What if I stayed? My plans are to return, but should I? I didn't exactly leave on the best terms, and I have no desire to face my _family_ again. However, Thor is next to the throne. He doesn't deserve to rule. Neither does Odin. I deserve to rule. Thor always behaved the leader, but who always drug him out of trouble? Who always cast down the enemies he brazenly took on and proved to be too much to handle? Me! If it weren't for I, that fool of an oath would be dead. I run my hands through my hair in frustration.

Regardless if I return or not, the best thing to do is to adapt to this era. Therefore, I need the woman's guidance. I would be a fool not to take advantage of her knowledge and willingness to assist.

I will spend these next two days on resting, and gathering all the knowledge I can from her many books. I will learn the ways of this land, and who knows? Maybe I will conquer this land before returning to take the throne from Odin.

POV - Solace

I could hear Loki shifting through my books as I sat at small work table in between the dining room and the storage. The scent of parchment and ink wafted through the small area as I prepared to write the letter to the jarl. I dipped my raven feather quill into the ink bottle and began.

 _Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun,_

 _It has come to my attention that Ulfric Stormcloak has sent out a group to convince you to his side. I myself am a bit tied up at the moment, but deem this necessary to bring to your awareness. I also ask that you refuse this offer, and any given to you by the Imperials as well. This war will end in nothing but suffering from both sides, and Whiterun is the one safe haven from all of the bloodshed. You are a great Jarl, and an even greater man and I respect you for holding tight to your neutrality. Do not cave to lesser men my Jarl. No matter if I have to fight off both armies myself, I will defend Whiterun. You should be wary, they may not like refusal, but do not fear, I do not like threats toward my first home. Send for me if they show signs of aggression. If they attack Whiterun, they will not get pass the gates. You have my word._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Dovahkiin_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Clean Up Detail

 **Solace's POV**

I neatly folded the letter into a small, perfect square and slipped it into a tiny pocket on my Nightingale armour. The sun will set soon, and there is a disastrous mess in front of the manor. A few spells here and there should make quick work of it. Standing from the chair, I walk back into the dining room to find Kriid devouring the rest of the stew right out of the pot.

"Kriid! You lackadaisical mutt!" I shooed him away, "You could not be bothered to defend your home or me, who took you in, choosing instead to lay about and await the outcome!"

Kriid huffed in defiance, sitting by the fireplace and huffed again at me, cocking his head to the side seemingly content with his inaction.

"Don't you behave as such! Perhaps dog's are Nord's best companions, but Shadowmere would have certainly aided in battle! The mighty hunter Kriid, out mastered by a horse!"

The melodramatic quadruped howled in outrage, scandalized by the thought of being outclassed by a prey animal.

"Well then, I suppose next time you will do your duty as protector of this house."

I spun on my heels and stalked to the door, leaving him to brood on his lonesome. As the door is wrenched open, my nose crinkles in disgust as the smell of burning flesh hits me. What an unpleasant scent!

I feel my magic tingling under my skin as I charge it with purpose. Purple hues dance around my fingers, and I send the magic into the nearest corpse with a flick of my wrist. The body jerks as the lower level daemon settles in it's new vessel and rises from the ground, it's body covered in dark magic.

I draw the magic back within myself and explode it out, pouring it over the dead, all of them rising simultaneously. They stare at me vacantly, waiting for my order.

I point with my thumb to the back trail, " Begone! I want you as far away as you can get."

The corpses file down the trail at a run, eager to do my bidding. I look on for a while, always surprised at the speed of the dead and glad to see them go. The stench, had I burned them to ash where they lay, would have stayed for months. Not a pleasing notion.

As I head back inside, the sun is hiding halfway behind the horizon, night time is upon us. I rarely need sleep, and will not indulge in the presence of Loki. However, I must make it seem as if I am resting. All mortals require sleep, even elves. I don't want to tip him off to my identity. He must figure it out on his own. Though, if I am called to Whiterun, he will know regardless. All in good time I suppose.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Magic

 **Loki's POV**

As I awaken, it is to the sound of silence at the sun's first rays. The first thing I notice is my body. It feels as if I am floating in a stormcloud as my body hums with an electrical current. My magic! I sit up quickly, all pain gone, and my strength returned. I open and close my fist, watching as dazzling green sparks dance around my now pale, asgardian hand. I smile in excitement. By the Nine, I missed this feeling. I feel pleased at my quick recovery, and yet, baffled. Even at my level, it should take longer to recover my magic.

I stand and exit the room, searching for Solace. No doubt she will be pleased. The dining room, however, is empty. Looking around, I see many rooms. I call out Solace's name, only to hear silence in return. Where is she? I first check the rest of the main hall, past the fireplace. It has a round table to the left of the area, and what looks to be a cellar to the right. The trap door into the cellar, however, proves to be locked. An easy fix with my magic, but I do not believe that she is down there.

I continue on to the back room, what seems to be a storage room. There are many chests, dressers, and shelves. This must be where Solace retrieved the oil barrel.

Returning to the dining area, I open one of the doors to the wing across from the one I sleep in. The wing is by far the most impressive, an armory. There were multiple stands holding armor of all sorts, and weapon racks lining in between the armor. The room was so crowded with weapons and armor that only two chests fit in the chamber, and yet somehow the armory retained an organised appearance. I find myself wanting to explore what she has in this room; some of the items feeling distinctly magical, but I decide instead to continue my search.

The only areas I have yet to check are upstairs and outside, and seeing as it only makes sense to finish searching the house first, I head up one set of the stairs that are on either side of the main hall.

Upstairs was more cramped, but just as orderly as the other parts of the house. It's structure was built in the shape of a Π,the chimney going straight through the center. Most of the room was taken up by beds and dressers. There were two more single beds on the left side, with matching dressers, and another double bed in the back. There, on the large bed lay, not Solace, but **Kriid**. He was curled up and deep asleep, his nose resting under his tail. I spare a small smile at the canine. He has grey hair mottled in with his shiny coat, I notice. I did not see it before, distracted by his puppy-like attitude, but as I look at him now, he seems old and fragile. His age is not too great, but he certainly isn't young anymore. Another thing to note is the fierce looking scars. They are all but invisible unless you're up close. I stroke the sleeping canine's back and leave him to his nap, continuing down the stairs. Solace isn't in the house, so I head to the door to check outside.

As I walk out into the yard, I take in the atmosphere for the first time. A wind blows in through the trees of the surrounding forest, carrying a slight bite of chill. There is a lake out front. Not a big one, but rather one small enough to almost be considered a pond. The water is clear, and in it you can see fish, and large crabs the size of which I have never seen. Over to the side, a simple wooden stable stood, large enough to house two horses.

With the mess created from yesterday gone, and without the threat, I realize that this place is quite beautiful. There is something in the air that I cannot name. Something heavy and yet light. I close my eyes and allow my magic to reach out, feeling the trees, the water, the earth, and in it all thrums something great. It is in everything around me, no; _is_ everything around me. It is magic! This world is entirely made of magic!

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

My eyes snap open at I turn to find the one I had been searching for. Now, seeing through magic's eyes, she was magnificent. She wore her same armor, but now I can see the bright enchantments laced over the material, as well as the magic on her sword and bow. Though, none of the enchantments could compare to the astounding magic emanating from Solace herself. It is wild, volatile, and dominating, something to behold with awe. Next to her stood a magnificent beast of a horse, black as the Void, with magic even darker. The stallions piercing red eyes were a pit of lava, burning with wild fury, making the steed unmistakably untamable.

I could feel a tentative strand of Solace's magic coax my own. Walking a bit closer to her, I allow my magic to meet with hers. As our magic flowed together, I can sense that our magic is vastly different. Hers seems to control and command the magic of nature, while mine drew from itself to create whatever effect I desire. I was taught that no one could control magic, and that those who tried were consumed and turned mad. Though more powerful, her magic is not as diverse as mine. She cannot turn one item into another, or summon an object into existence like I.

I realize that I have reached Solace and am standing right in front of her. I remember her question and say, "Yes. Simply stunning." As the statement left my mouth, I found myself not sure to what I was referring.

Solace tilts her head with a smirk that was almost a smile, "I am glad to see you well."

"As am I. I expected it to take longer, but the magic on this realm feeds my own, making it stronger."

"Not many can feel the magic of Nirn, and even fewer can interact with it. You are quite unusual"

"So I've heard."

Solace patted the horse at her side, "This is Shadowmere. He is an extension of the void; everlasting. He has been my friend for quite some time and through many trials."

I reached out a hesitant hand and touched his muzzle. He is soft and warm, so unlike the void that I fell through. Shadowmere sniffed me in curiosity and nuzzled my shoulder.

"Good. He likes you," Solace said, "He will be your ride to Falkreath. I have a steed I can summon from the Soul Cairn."

"The Soul Cairn?" I ask as I stroke the stallion.

"The Soul Cairn is where the souls go when you take them from a body, and lock them in a black soul gem. It is a difficult practice, but very rewarding as it allows you to bind enchantments to items."

I nod in acceptance. Sometimes magic had a high price.

"You skin is now in the likeness of men. What other forms do you possess?"

Shadowmere snorts and walks off to his stable, eating the fresh hay within.

"My forms are only limited by my mind. I have once held the form of a snake, as well as a dragon. Though, I cannot take the form of something I do not know of."

Solace's eyes widened for a moment, "You can take the form of the **Dov**?"

" **Dov**?"

"Dragon."

"Yes. I actually first did so to fight off another dragon that my brother and his friends awakened on accident."

"Dragons are feared here. If we are to avoid creating an uproar, we must not fly as a **Dovah**."

I raised a brow inquiringly, "We?"

Solace straightened in pride. "I too am a **Dovah**."

My head whirled with the information, making connections. " _You_ are the Dragonborn!"

Her magic swelled, creating an intimidating aura. "I am the **Dovahkiin** , **Thuri** , master, to all **Dovah**."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Dragonborn

 **Solace's POV**

Over the next few days, Loki and I spoke often. It was a pleasant change from only having a dog and a horse to converse with, aside from the visits to **Paarthurnax**.

I told him of the guilds I control, and the ones I advise. I told him of the holds, and that I held the title of Thane in every one. Many words came from me. More than I have ever spoken to another before, and yet, I cannot discern why. The words that spilled from my lips told nearly everything, but I could not stop. To my surprise, when I spoke of my joy of conquering; of killing, and my **Dovah** nature, he accepted it with ease. More than accepted it; he was fascinated, and in turn told me of himself.

He told me of the foolish Warriors Three, always running amuk. He spoke of his brother; of his love for him, but disappointment in his selfish and child-like ways. He spoke of his position as Prince of Asgard, and his discovery of adoption. Anger burned hot as fire as he raved about why he fell. There were no tears. He said his sadness is gone; perished as he fell into the void. All that was left was a fierce anger. He insisted that he should have been King, and to his shock, I did not deny him.

 _Flashback: Loki's magic rolls and churns like a raging sea along with his anger. No doubt Loki did not mean to become as emotional as this._

" _Odin should not have made Thor next in line for the throne! He would plunge Azgard into war! He was already doing it at Prince! I was going to ensure the safety of our Kingdom! Odin was asleep, and Thor was grounded off-planet. I was acting in the best interest for my people, and what do I receive in return?! Thor attacking his own brother at the words of his friends! I should mean more than that! He didn't even ask! He doesn't deserve to rule! Neither does Odin!"_

 _As he takes a breath from his rant, I cut in to say my piece._

" _Then take it from them."_

 _Loki freezes up, unbelieving of my words, so I continue on._

" _You say that they cannot rule properly, you believe that you can do better, so do it. Return to your land and conquer it as a true_ _ **Dovah**_ _."_

 _He looks at me in an unreadable expression._

" _You are tired of this fight over who's to rule on your own land. Why do_ you _not take it for_ yourself _?"_

 _I have thought on his words before. I have considered overtaking all of Skyrm, and my dragon soul sings with pleasure. There lies only one problem._

" _I have already considered this, multiple times. The problem I face is my_ _ **Dovah Sos**_ _. My Dragon Soul. When I fly on the wings of my Soul Form, I have the instinct along with it. If I were to set out to conquer a city, I would burn it to ash. I would need a strategist to keep me in the clear mind."_

 _Loki's eyes become fierce, and his stature straightens. He adapts the mannerisms of the Noble I know him to be and proposes, "Then I will aid you. I will help you take this Kingdom under your reign, if you help me return to Asgard and take it for myself."_

 _He stretches his hand out, his eyes strong and determined._

" _Do we have an accord?"_

 _I cannot contain the sinister smirk that tore at my lips. I reached out and grasped his arm, "I accept."_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: FalkreathLoki's POV

As the morning of our journey arrives, I find myself more than ready to venture out into this new world. I walk outside and see Solace saddling Shadowmere with a dark leather saddle, a red handprint on the side. She wears the same armor as she has since I've met her, but a hooded cowl is pulled over her face. The only visible part of her are small white reflections of light from each of her eyes emanating from beneath her hood.

"Why hide such beautiful features behind the shadows, my lady?"

She ignores my teasing, and answers, "The elven kind isn't very welcome around here, especially on the roads and out of city limits where there are none to uphold the law, besides, I hide my face as Dovahkiin so that I may walk unmasked without any to recognize me."

I make my way over to her and assist in strapping down the saddle.

"You are wary of trouble? I thought the reason for our arrangement was to overpower our enemies?"

Solace buckles the last saddle strap into place as I put the last finishing touches on Shadowmere's bridle.

"It is true that is why I have procured your alliance, but right now, I have sensitive information to deliver. It would be a shame to have the letter destroyed before I send it off. Go on,"

She says, gesturing to the stallion.

I place my hand on the pommel, lift my foot to the stirrup, and swing over Shadowmere's back. The leather creaks as I shift to a comfortable position and adjust the stirrups to fit my height. Solace hand my the short reigns, fit for quick commands, and I grip them loosely as not to pull the horse's mouth to harshly.

Upon the large equine, Solace looks to be much smaller, and as I look down at her I ask, "Are you not worried about someone capturing the courier?"

Solace answers a simple, "No," and instead of elaborating, she brought her hands together. I can feel the dark magic gathering as blue, fire-like energy swirls between her palms as if it has a mind of it's own. Solace then thrusts the energy forward, and immediately on impact with the ground, a swirling portal in the blue magic's likeness spirals into existence.

For a moment it was just the portal, but as the portal closes in on itself, there, standing where the portal disappeared, stands a horse unlike any I have ever seen.

It has no coat, no muscle, nothing at all but blackened bones with blue fire mimicking a mane and tail. The impossible creature has to only be held together by magic. Most would not use such dark magic in front of others. How quickly I am learning that my new companion is not like most people.

She mounts the beast without a saddle, her hand resting on it's shoulder bone, then proceeds to elaborate her answer, "No, I do not fear sending my letter with the courier because it is a neutral messenger. They deliver messages indiscriminately to everyone, anywhere. Even bandits respect the couriers, not including the soldier couriers of course, and for good reason. I once had a courier deliver me a letter while I was in the midst of battling a dragon. He handed me the message while the Dovah's teeth were inches from our flesh."

She shifts her weight forward, encouraging her mount forward and I follow while looking at her incredulously.

"The dragon did not attack him?"

"No. Usually, if I am present, a dragon will focus its attention on me. They recognise me as one of their own, and as a worthy opponent."

I nod in understanding and take another glance at her steed.

"That is the horse from the Soul Cairn? How long does the summoning last?"

"Yes, this is Arvak. He disappears back into the Soul Cairn when I dismount him. I am the only thing keeping him here."

"How did you learn to summon him?"

"I aided in a quest for a vampire that included going into the Soul Cairn. There I found the soul of a man who asked me to find his beloved horse. I was not going to truly look for it, thinking it a waste of time, but I stumbled upon it. When I brought Arvak's skull back to his owner, the man told me his name and ask that I take him as my own. Names have power, and in knowing his name I can call him forth from the Soul Cairn. Unfortunately, I cannot keep him here. It was one of the longest and most annoying quests I have ever undertaken, but I deemed it worthwhile due to my gain of Arvak and another ally, Durnehviir."

"Durnehviir?"

"A great Dovah I fought in the Soul Cairn. He was impressed by me and offered his friendship, and asked a favor. He asked that when I returned here that I would Shout his name so that he might see Tamriel again. I have done so as often as I can, but I wish I could free him forever."

"Perhaps there is a way to anchor him here. I have knowledge of many powerful runes. The right runes aligned the right way can accomplish anything you desire. Perhaps anchor their souls to an item?" I say, my mind already stringing together possible runic combinations.

Solace tilts her head in my direction, eyes blazing fiercely.

"If you were to do that, I would owe you a great deal," she focused back on the road, "But first we must focus on the task at hand. We have reached our destination."

I was so absorbed in Solace's words, I failed to notice the small town ahead of us. Her voice, so full of power, captured my attention whenever she spoke, but observing the town, I understand why any would miss it. It is a small place, hardly a town at all, with a permanent fog, making the town seem grim. The buildings, only adding to the town's gloomy nature, are simplistic structures with dark, washed out wood. Some of the smaller houses are slightly rotting on the outside, the wood not having been properly treated for this area's constant, damp weather. Even the people themselves reflect the town's dispirited nature.

Solace leads me to a banged up Inn, The Dead Man's Drink, first building on the left, and we dismount our horses. I watch Arvak curiously, wanting to see how he returned to the Soul Cairn.

A few seconds after Solace dismounts, Arvak rears back with a shrill scream and folds in on himself, crumbing to the ground, turning to mist, then disappearing altogether.

I chuckle at the passerby citizens' startled screams and gasps of surprise. This is why I started out loving magic; seeing the faces of everyone as I defied the laws of nature they revolve around.

At Solace's suggestion, I left Shadowmere untied and followed her into the Inn. The inside, much more inviting than the outside, had a large, rectangular fireplace in the center of the room, and multiple bench-style tables and two rooms on either side. At the far end of the bar, there is a desk with a middle aged, medium height, light brown haired, woman with a slight tan behind it. Solace and I approach the woman and Solace greets her, appropriately but not necessarily politely, with a nod, "Valga."

Valga returns the nod with one of her own and asks, "Can I get you two anything?"

Solace places golden coins on the counter, making them appear, seemingly from nowhere.

"I need two Black Briar meads."

Valga takes the coins, unfazed by their sudden appearance, and reaches under the counter to pull out two orange bottles with fancy labels.

"Here you are," Valga said, handing the mead over to Solace, "Let me know if you see anything else you'd like."

Solace takes the bottles and we seat ourselves on an empty bench table next to the one occupied by men wearing the same armor as the sort that brought the bandits. Stormcloaks.

Solace grabs my attention and presses a bottle in my hands, sipping on her own. "Try it. Black Briar is the best meadery in Skyrim. It's not Elven or Argonian wine, but it's the next best thing."

I take a timid sip, allowing the taste to roll on my tongue. I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't the sweet, honey fire that warms my throat as it cascades down.

"Good, isn't it?"

I nod in agreement and take another sip.

"The reserve is even stronger, but that's hard to come by," she says.

I clear my throat and ask, "Are we not looking for the courier?"

"There's no need to. He arrives in this inn every other Tirdas morning, today, and leaves tomorrow morning."

"So we are waiting for him?"

"Yes. He should be here soon."

I take another sip and roll it in my mouth.

"You summoned coins, like you did with Arvak, only there was no portal."

I wasn't drawing it from a separate, self sustaining dimension but a pocket dimension I created myself. Because it is connected to me, It doesn't take energy to summon it to me. I am constantly expanding my inventory as I call it."

I grin widely, "I have created a pocket dimension as well. I was, in fact, the first and only to do it in the Nine Realms. My mother was quite proud of me," my grin shrivels into an angry frown, "Though others did not acknowledge my feat. Asgard sees magic as a woman's art; even as Prince I was mocked. Though, only the Warriors Three and my brother openly scorned me. Even my father treated me like a disappointment."

"Loki...I," Solace begins, but she quirks her head to the side and brings a gloved finger to her covered lips.

She gestures with her head to the table next to us, and I focus my attention on discretely listening.

"It's true, I tell ya!," a Stormcloak exclaims, "My cousin in Rorikstead said that Legate Rikke is on her way to Whiterun with a small army to take the city by force if Jarl Balgruuf doesn't give his allegiance! Galmar Stone-Fist is on his way as well, something about a missing party and holding Jarl Balgruuf responsible. There's gonna be a big battle for Whiterun, no doubt!"

Solace abandons her drink and rises quickly. I too lay down my drink and follow Solace's fast pace out of the Inn.

"Change of plans. We ride to Whiterun in person. Our horses have no need to draw breath, or rest as others do," she says as she summons Arvak, "If we ride hard, we can reach Whiterun before nightfall. Hopefully we make it before it's too late."

She and I expertly mount our steeds and nudge them into a dead sprint. Their hooves tear at the ground as they run at a pace that would leave their mortal counterparts in the dust. As the sun climbs higher and the time passes, the fate of Whiterun lay with the speed of two undead steeds.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: WhiterunSolace's POV

Loki and I take the route through Riverwood, our horses burling through the small town and startling the blacksmith into dropping his hammer with a clatter. Over the thunder of our horses hooves I can hear a familiar shout.

"Solace!"

I lean back sharply, stopping Arvak. The undead steed groans and his bony frame rattles at the sudden halt. Loki reigns in Shadowmere to prevent collision with Arvak and I. Shadowmere rears back, frustrated at the now dead pace.

"Solace! What trouble have you found?"

The voice sounds again, drawing my attention to the male bosmer running in my direction with a simple hunting bow strapped to his back. Faendal. His hair appeared whiter than ever in the sunlight, contrasting nicely with his large, almond eyes and darkly tanned skin.

He is sprinting at Loki and I, and as he reaches Arvak's side he doubles over, breathing heavily.

Not having the time to spare, I speak before he catches his breath, "Faendal! I haven't much time. The Imperials, and likely the Stormcloaks, are preparing to march on Whiterun. I will prevent this, but I need you to prepare. The soldiers will not be pleased with their failure, and Riverwood is en-route to both Stormcloak and Imperial camps."

Faendal stands up straight and declares, "Let me accompany you! It would be an honor to fight by your side once more!"

"No," I return, "You must stay here. I do not speak ill of your skills, but this will not be a small bandit skirmish. Besides, this town needs you more than I."

Without waiting for a reply, I click my tongue; setting Arvak back to his previous pace. So, With a squeal and rattle of bones from our masterful steeds, we clatter out of town and over the bridge.

I feel impatience as we rush around the foliage, the scenery a blur of color only the sharpest eyes can discern. I Count every step until I reach the bend that turns into the downhill road to Whiterun. Finally! As the foliage breaks I guide Arvak into a sharp turn. His hooves dig into the soft dirt and he leans so far to the left that I can touch the road if I reach out my hand.

When Arvak rights himself I turn back to see if Loki makes the turn. To my slight surprise, he drives Shadowmere expertly into an exact emulation of my horsemanship.

Shadowmere levels and as I start to look away, Loki catches my attention by shouting my name and pointing ahead of me. When I look to see what he gestured to, my heart nearly stops in worry. Two armies, about 100 to 150 each, both stand on opposite sides of the road into the city. The stormcloaks and Imperials have already arrived. They stand still, not at the city gates but nearby at the stables.

I curse in **Dovahzuul** as we clatter over the cobblestone bridge and pass the farms. Hopefully not too much damage has been done. I urge Arvak even harder, well past the point of death for any normal steed. The soldiers draw their swords and cry out in alarm as we approached rapidly. The sight we portrayed is surely gastly; two armoured beings riding in on monstrous steeds. We look like death itself, and if these soldiers crossed me, I would be their death. However, I ignore my urge to slaughter all of the pesky, tiny, _mortals_ that threaten my home and pass them by without a second glance.

The city gates are just ahead, and I contemplate slowing down, but disregard the notion. I don't have time to walk through town. I need to get to Dragonsreach, _now_ , and the gate is closed to horses. I growled. _Not my problem._ The gates nervous guards are startled into dropping their shields. I hear one yell halt, but in reply I move the cloth covering my mouth and _Shout._

" **Fus Ro!** "

The shout tears from my lips and hits the main gate with great force, slamming it open and nearly removing it from it's hinges. I trample onto the cobblestone street, grateful everyone chose to remain inside. Not slowing in the slightest, I make my way through the empty market and pass the oak and cobblestone houses. Dragonsreach in sight, I realize my next obstacles, the stairs, and the doors at the top of them. My horses are sure footed and can make quick work of the stairs, and the doors...they seem big enough.

Jarl Balgruuf's POV(3rd)

Jarl Balgruuf sits in his throne with his fingers pressed to his temple. He has a persistent ache thumping against his skull, frustrating him further than he already was. Before him stands the two that are the cause of his stress and frustration; Legate Rikke of the Imperial army, and Galmar Stone-Fist of the Stormcloak rebellion. He lets out a sigh as a testament to all of his troubles. Originally he would be worried about his lack of decorum, but his guests had lost all sense of professionalism within minutes of being in each other's presence, and were so involved in their squabbling that they don't even notice his lack of propriety.

"If Whiterun were in the hands of Ulfric the Pretender, it would fall to ruin! Just look at the state of his own province! Jarl Balgruuf won't let him ruin his city as well!"

"Do not slander the name of the rightful king! Whiterun is a true Nord city, and Jarl Balgruuf a true Nord! He knows it belongs to its people!"

"Its people you say? I don't remember Whiterun ever being yours by home province, or residence! Skyrim is part of the Empire, and therefore Whiterun is rightfully ours!"

"The Empire let us down! Skyrim will have her freedom! For Talos!"

"For Talos!? Ha! More like for that wannabe-king-Ulfric."

"Ulfric won against Torygg fair and square in his Rite of Combat! He is the TRUE KING! Balgruuf respects the olde ways and understands this!"

Legate Rikke and Galmar Stone-Fist argue back and forth vehemently, choosing to insult and degrade the other side rather than persuade the Jarl to their side. Jarl Balgruuf feels insulted that General Tullius and Ulfric sent bloodthirsty soldiers instead of cool-headed politicians, and further insulted that they are both stating their ideals as if they were his! It was clear to him that both sides believe they are right with so much conviction that they expect him to share their opinion.

Balgruuf is growing tired of their childish behavior, but unsure how to move forward. He cannot accept either alliance for fear of being destroyed by the other, but neither can he refuse both. Both armies are at his doorstep; if he sent both away he would have to fight both armies with nothing but his guards, who are little more than retired adventurers.

Luckily for Jarl Balgruuf, help arrives; and with the most dramatic of entrances.

With a large bang that causes Dragonsreach to tremor, the doors of the palace slam open; startling the residents within. Jarl Balgruuf stands in alarm as his guards, his housecarl, and his guests draw their weapons in defense.

To everyone's shock, in comes two riders on horrifying steeds. They roll in with a thunderous fury, straight towards Rikke and Galmar with alarming speed. Everyone tenses and the Imperial and Stormcloak guard their faces and extend their weapons expecting to be pummeled. Jarl Balgruuf shields his face as well and crouches low; hoping to be spared from the hooves of the large beasts.

As soon as the chaos began, it abruptly ends,and hearing silence instead of pain induced screams, Balgruuf looks up. The steed of bones stands still, inches from Legate Rikke, and the steed of darkness stands adjacent to the boned one, inches from Galmar Stone-Fist. Both stand unnaturally still, as if they hadn't just been running but rather have been there all along. The Captains of the opposing sides stumble back in fear.

Jarl Ulfric, however, is instantly relieved upon the sight, for upon one of the steeds a familiar female figure sits regally.

"Dragonborn!" he says happily; unable to resist a grin at how quickly things turned to his favor.

The Dragonborn turns her head from Legate Rikke and nods at him in respect. She dissmounts her steed, and it falls into the ground with a high-pitched scream; causing the two in front of her to jump and point their weapons in her direction.

"You are interfering with Imperial business! Leave!" the Legate says authoritatively.

Galmar shifts on his feet, not willing to attack or demand anything from a prophesied Nord legend until knowing her intentions.

"She has more right than you to be here!"Jarl balgruuf states loudly; grasping the Dragonborn's arm as she approaches.

The Dragonborn's companion stays mounted on his steed and watches over the room with a sharp eye.

"As a meeting concerning Whiteruns fate, this only concerns the Jarl!" Rikke persists and Galmar grunts with a sneer, everyone unsure if he is agreeing or disagreeing.

Jarl Balgruuf declares ,"As she is Thane of Whiterun, I have every right to hold her counsel! She stays and that is the end of it!" , allowing a bit of his anger to seep into the words.

The Legate snarls in a very unladylike way and sheaths her sword; Galmar sheathing his own weapon while both cast wary glances in the other rider's direction.

"What about him?" Galmar questions.

The dragonborn's head snaps to the Stormcloak,"He's with me," She says, her hidden gaze flickering from him to Rikke, daring them to refute her.

Galmar Stone-Fist scowls, and crosses his arms across his chest.

"Jarl Balgruuf," he grunts, "Hasn't made a decision."

Legate Rikke chimed in with her condescending tone, "And what, pray tell, do you advise mighty Thane?"

The Dragonborn turns back to the Jarl Balgruuf and says in cool, crisp manner, "My Jarl, perhaps we can discuss our option thoroughly and reconvene with our guests tomorrow. As you can tell by my abrupt entrance, I have crucial news to share."

Neither Galmar or Rikke seemed to like the idea, but with a forced, "fine," from the Imperial and a terse, "Choose well," from the Stormcloak, they stomped out of Dragonsreach; the tension in the room leaving with them.

As soon as the outsiders are gone, Solace speaks.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Pardon?" Jarl Balgruuf asks, confused.

"We have two armies at our door. What do you want to do about it?" she returns very business-like.

Jarl Balgruuf sighs loudly and shakes his head unsuredly.

Jarl Balgruuf's housecarl, Irileth, steps forward, "My Jarl, If I may? Perhaps we should gather your brother, the wizard, and your steward and all move upstairs?"

Jarl Balgruuf nods his affirmation, "Yes, of course. Irileth, find the others, we'll meet you there."

The dragonborn looks to her companion, "Care to join us Loki? We need as many sharp minds as we can get."

Balgruuf observes his Thane's new companion, having been to immersed in the chaos to do so before.

He wears strange armor, that looks to be mostly black leather with green accents, and a golden metal more brilliant than elven armor. He himself looks to be the palest imperial he ever laid eyes on, with raven hair combed back neatly and eyes an unusual shade of green. His lean frame sits with poise, and looks to be tall, but as he is on the horse, it is difficult to discern.

The man dismounted the stallion and gestured ellegantly, "Lead the way."

The now obviously tall man follows as Jarl Balgruuf and the Dragonborn make their way up the stairs and into a spacious area with a rectangular table covered nearly entirely by a map of Skyrim; little red and blue flags marking various locations.

Jarl Balgruuf, Loki, and the dragonborn gather around the table and are soon joined by the Steward Proventus Avenicci, Hrongar, Balgruuf's brother and Thane, Farengar Secret-Fire, the Court Wizard, and Irileth.

Once everyone was gathered around, The dragonborn started, "Now, about our unwanted guests…"


	13. Chapter 13

**(AU: This chapter is dedicated to** **alucardgal** **who's comment inspired me to continue this story when I had lost motivation.**

Chapter 13: PlansLoki's POV

As Solace, who all here call Dragonborn, and I stand around the table with the others, I find myself curious as to how this would proceed. War is a conflict practiced universally, no doubt, but would they resolve this like the Asgardians, with steel and blunt force? Or like the Light Elves, with gifts and fancy words?

The people gathered here are all different, giving me no way to predict the outcome of this discussion. The Jarl of this hold, Balgruuf, has muscles of a warrior, but is not overly buff. He has shoulder length, golden hair with a neatly trimmed beard and wears fine clothing fitting of his station. Next to him, a man with similar features to him, has armor seeming to be a combination of fur and steel. The Jarls brother, I assume, is younger and shares his older brothers golden hair and blue eyes, but his head is shaved to stubble and his beard is decorated by a silver band. He also has red warpaint streaked across his face.

Another man dressed in fine garb was of a darker complexion than the two golden-haired siblings, with brown eyes, a small and thin, nearly not even there mustache and beard, and a balding head of black hair. The Steward perhaps? The other man must be the wizard then. Not much can be seen of his features due to his cloak and hood; the shadows hiding most of his face from sight. Irileth is shorter than anyone else in the room with well-cared-=for leather armor and a shiny sword strapped to her side. Her hair is red, though not the ruby-rich red of Solace's, and gray-blue skin with black warpaint extending from her blood red eyes that are far too resemblant of a frost giant's for my confort. I believe the best route is to listen for now. I don't have enough information yet to be of reliable input.

Before I can think on it more, my attention is drawn as Solace opens the discussion.

"Now, about our unwanted guests. We need to devise a strategy and quickly. If we don't handle this correctly, Whiterun could end up nothing but a pile of ash," she says, glancing around the table.

The Jarl speaks next, "First, I am sad to say, we must choose a side. The imperials are the best bet. They have better equipment and could better defend Whiterun."

The others make sounds of protest, and Solace adds, "With all due respect Jarl, the Imperials can't even help themselves, and you want to trust them with the fate of your hold?"

"I will not join hands with Ulfric!" he responds, "We are here, having this discussion, because of his actions! He is a cruel and selfish man that started a war to get a bigger throne!"

"The Jarl is right! Ulfric is no one to ally ourselves with!" The Steward exclaims.

Irileth counters, "And the Imperial Army is? Part of the Empire or not, the Thalmor are walking our roads and killing entire families for praying!"

Arguing breaks out on which side is safer to align with, voices growing louder and louder in order to let themselves be heard. A glance to my side shows Solace, hands on the table, eyes downcast on the map. I cannot see her face due to her hood and mask; her body still and free of the subtlest of signals, but I get the feeling that she is thinking.

Her head still lowered, she calls out in a stern voice, "Silence!"

The others quiet almost immediately; signs of anger still present in their features. They look to her, though, waiting to hear what she has to say.

"Neither side will guarantee Whiterun's survival, so we will join neither side."

The Jarls brother nods as if her words were proof that he was right all along, while the Wizard was the first to critique, "We cannot fight off two whole armies with nothing but our measly guards! Even if we convinced the Companions to fight, it is still assured destruction!"

"Then we will call for aid! I have allies and favors owed to me by many! The Thieves Guild, The Dark Brotherhood,and the Volkihar Vampire Clan to name a few!" Solace insists.

Irileth says, "We don't have the time! Whoever we call would need time to pull their forces and move here!"

I pull to the front of my mind the teachings of my mother as we studied the Royal Court; an idea coming to mind.

"What if we make time?"

The other's look to me, slight confusion on the faces of those I can see. Solace, the only one who knows me even slightly, asks, "What are you thinking, Loki?"

The Steward moves to speak, but is silenced by Solace.

"Well," I start, "There once was a dispute between two friends of my brother's. One had a sword taken, and the other an axe. Both knew in their minds that it could be none but the other that had stolen from them. Their quarrelling was endless and all quite amusing because, you see, I was the one who took both axe and sword."

All was silent, save for the amused laugh of Solace.

Confused, Balgruuf says, "A nice story, but I fail to see it's relevance," the other's agreeing with him.

"Don't you see?" Solace says, quieting her laughter, "We take something from each camp and watch the squabble! If we are lucky they will destroy themselves!"

Solace and I wear matching, wicked grins. The Jarl, sporting a more tempered grin says excitedly, "That could work! The Imperials and Stormcloaks are already tense being so near one another! They would tear each other to pieces!"

Irileth chimes in again, "What about the casualties? The people in the farmlands? They don't stand a chance!"

"Bring them into the city. I'll house them in dragonsreach," the Jarl says.

The Stuard speaks, "What if they don't finish each other off? What then?"

"We set loose their horses and burn their supplies! Classic battle strategy!" The Jarl's brother shouts boisterously.

I add in, "If we do so while their attentions are with fighting each other, they don't have to know that it was us who did it. It can be just the results of the battle; allowing us to keep the element of surprise another day."

"Irileth, there is a Dunmer mercenary in the Drunken Huntsman by the name of Jenassa that is skilled in the art of sneak. She cost 500 septims, but she can steal from the soldiers tonight. She will also be ours for the week."

The Jarl nods at Irileth."This sounds to be a worthy investment. Will she destroy their supplies as well?" He asks me.

"She would. She is well worth the money. I'm thinking flaming arrows while the armies are fighting each other. What say you?"

Irileth looks at her questioningly, "Am I to be in charge of this Mercenary?"

"Yes," she says "I want the mercenary to work under you, as well as others I might bring into your army to fight. I also want you to be in charge of the stall tactic; what gets stolen and anything else that needs to be handled. That is, if the Jarl has no objections?"

"I trust your judgement Dragonborn. We will follow your lead," Balgruuf states.

I see everyone around the table nod in agreement to the Jarl's statement; Solace returning the nods with a thankful one of her own.

She breathes deep as if preparing herself before she speaks again, "Farengar, I need you to work on a way to keep the Imperials and Stormcloaks out of the entirety of Whiterun hold. Once we win this battle, both factions will see us as a problem to eradicate."

***She then turns to the Steward, "Proventus, I need you to cover the civilians. Send out a decree informing everyone to withdraw into the walls and remain here until further notice. Now, you, Hrongar."

The Jarls brother, who answers to the name Hrongar, stands straight; awaiting orders.

"First, bring Commander Caius in on the goings-on, then help him train the guards. We need the men we have to be capable soldiers as soon as possible," she says.

She looks over to me, "Loki and I will visit my house in town, then speak to the Companions."

The Jarl says, "Well, you all have your tasks...dismissed!"

Everyone disperses to accomplish their separate jobs except for me, Solace, and the Balgruuf. When everyone is gone he turns to Solace.

"Thank you, Dragonborn. At the darkest of times you always ride in to save us all."

"Don't thank me yet," she says, "We haven't even begun."

Balgruuf ignores her comment and instead, turns to me.

"And you... Loki is it?" he asks.

I reply, "Yes, I am Loki."

"Thank _you_ , my friend! It was your suggestion that started this plan; ensuring everything fell into place!" he says, grasping my arm in comradery.

I am surprised. The plan I layed out was anything but honorable, but it was accepted with ease. Never has one of my plans been met with such a good reception.

"As Solace has said," I respond, " Don't thank us yet."

"Yes, well, having a good plan is half the battle, I say!" With his last comment, he left the room; leaving me with Solace.

She bids me to follow her, and I do; walking back into the main room where Shadowmere is strangely nowhere to be found. Solace speaks as if reading my mind.

"Shadowmere is a smart one; smarter than most _people_ , actually. No telling where he has gone off to," she answers my unasked question, "He will come to us when he is needed; he always does."

We descend down the stairs of Dragonsreach and into an almost courtyard-like area. The thing that catches my eyes first is a tall, old looking tree. It stands at the center, and has a warm feeling emanating from it. It is made of magic, it seems. The earthy magic that seeps from it's every leaf feels pleasant. It also is accompanied by something else. Something not coming from the tree.

A large, stone statue stands not far from the tree. It is of an armor-clad man clasping a sword pointed to the ground with both hands. It feel strong, like a warrior. A slight hum, like what Solace's shouts feel like is also present.

"Solace," she stops and turns around at my saying her name, "Who is that statue of?"

She looks to the statue I reference and says, "That is a representation of Talos, the Hero-God of mankind. He is the god of might, honor, state, law, and governance. He was a dragonborn like myself, before he ascended into godhood. He is the one the Thalmor despise and the Stormcloaks claim to fight for."

"And how does he feel about that; the Stormcloaks fighting in his name?" I ask.

She responds, "I don't know. The Aedra are very powerful beings that have a large impact on this world, so they have rules. They cannot interact with this plane directly out of special circumstance. We have their shrines, and through them, the Divines will sometimes bless you with a gift; like adding to your skill with a shield, or increasing your luck with sales and purchase prices."

"Does everyone get a blessing?"

"No. The Divines will bless those that they feel worthy of their gifts. For example, Talos is more likely to bless a hero of war, and Dibella, the Goddess of beauty, is more likely to bless a woman."

She gestures forward with her head, "Come. My house is near the city gates."

We continue on through the city, and I think on how fast the horses must have been going for us to travel through this city in such a short time. Distances seem so much smaller when on horseback.

"Here we are," says Solace.

When I heard she had a house here, I was picturing her beautiful manor, and hearing her station in this city drove my thoughts to lavish dwellings. Seeing her house now, it is just like every other house in whiterun; smaller, even, than some. She pulls a key out of her _inventory,_ and opens the door. She stomps her boots before walking inside, and I do the same.

It is warm inside, and though it looks nothing like Lakeview Manor, it feels like it. There is a fire in the center of a stone floor, with two chairs next to it. Books were stacked in one chair, and more on a shelf not far from the fireplace to the right of the entryway. The fire also seems to function for cooking as well, as there are cooking tools in the fire and around it.

A kitchen/dining area lay behind the fireplace, where I can see food on shelves and a table fit for a small family. To the left, next to the kitchen area, is a door that leads to another room, and to the left, next to the fireplace, before you reach the table, is a staircase leading up onto another level.

Solace lowers her hood and removes her mask.

"It's not much, but it was my first home. Now, though, it serves as my storage, and my housecarl's home _."_

"Housecarl?" I ask curiously.

Her head cocks to the side, "Yes, Lydia. She should have heard the door and have been down by now. She is supposed to guard my things. Perhaps she has gone careless in my absence."

She then yells out, "Lydia! I'm home! Come here, I want you to meet someone!"

A quiet moment, and then thumping can be heard. A young woman in nice, steel armor with a steel lined shield on her back, along with a compound bow and steel arrows rushes down the stairs; the steel, one-handed sword at her hip swaying. She is what most would consider pretty; gorgeous, even, with pale skin, dark, medium-length hair, large lips, and dark blue eyes.

"Lydia! There you are!" Solace says with a slight smile.

The woman Lydia smiles brightly, all teeth, and exclaims excitedly, "My Thane! How are you? Did you see the soldiers outside the city!? Is **Kriid** with you? Who's this?"

Solace holds up her hands in a halting motion.

"Lydia! Slow down. I will answer your questions," she says amused.

Before she can speak, other, heavier footsteps are heard. Descending down the staircase is a very large man with shoulder-length brown hair, light blue eyes common in the Nords, brown war paint around his eyes, shading them in, and dirt maring his face. He wears very heavy-looking steel armor with a steel great-sword strapped to his back.

"Farkas," Solace greets the man with familiarity, but less warmth than Lydia received.

Lydia's pale skin blushes a bright pink as she rushes to explain, "Farkas and I were talking. He wants me to stop by Jorrvaskr...For training reasons!"

I smirk slightly in amusement as she tries to relieve her embarrassment by clearing her throat.

Solace changes the conversation, to the relief of Lydia and Farkas; "That's fine then. Loki and I are on our way after we do some things here. You two may go on ahead, we'll meet you there."

Lydia looks my way curiously, and Farkas seems to be sizing me up.

Instead of voicing their thoughts, Lydia sputters out, "Of course, My Thane."

She and Farkas make their way out the door, Farkas moving slower than Lydia, not removing his eyes from Loki. His head is somewhat cocked to the side as he stares at me in what I believe to be curiosity.

In my peripheral vision, I see Solace raise her brow. This causes Farkas to lower his head and leave more hurriedly.

As the door shuts, I focus my attention on Solace. She lets out a sigh and removed her gloves, stuffing them into an unseen pocket on her armor.

"Come on, let's get ready. We have work to do."

She leads me up the stairs and to the right into a master bedroom about half the size of Lakeview Manor's. Books, letters, and interesting baubles lay around the room in an obviously organized manner, but with enough carelessness to make the room feel comfortable.

"Look around if you wish, just be careful not to open strange books. I'd rather not pull anyone out of another dimension today."

Solace begins digging in a chest to the left side of the room, through armors and weaponry by the sound of it and with her warning in mind, I wonder the room observing various book titles and curious trinkets.

Most of the things in her room look to be very expensive, including claw-like ornaments carved out of pricey jewels, and materials. I run a finger along ruby claw, tipping it over to find carvings of three animals on the palm. _Curious._ Laying against the walls are intricately carved, magical staffs and golden, spherical, humming devises decorate shelves.

"Aha! **Til hi los**!"

I turn at Solace's voice and hold in a chuckle as I see she is halfway under the bed. She pulls herself out with a triumphant smirk and an armor set in her arms. She gestures me over and sets the armor out on the bed. The armor is the finest I have ever seen. It is the darkest of blacks, but shines like finely polished glass with not a scratch to be seen.

"This is reinforced ebony. It is male armor, and very uncomfortable to me, but I found myself unable to sell it. Such a lovely piece didn't deserve to be wasted on some highborn child who would never see the heat of battle.," Solace comments as I admire it; feeling it's glassy surface.

"Tis a glorious set of armor. It would indeed be a shame if it never saw bloodshed," I relay.

"I'm glad you find it pleasing," she says, "It will suit you well, I think."

I draw my hand away from the armor, slightly startled, "I couldn't possibly!"

She places the armor in my arms. It is lighter than I expected it to be.

"If our deal is to be held up, you must stay alive. No iron or steel will ever pierce that armor. Now...about weapons. What style do you prefer?"

"I, I am a master in combat with a staff, and my daggers."

"Hm," Solace hums, "Daggers are great in fighting only a few opponents, but when in large battles, you would want a little more reach. Staffs are similarly good when facing few numbers, but when the battlefield gets crowded, you are left without room to maneuver. Can you dual-wield swords?"

"I have no experience in using two swords. I can use a sword, but it is not my best subject. Neither are maces, or hammers, or axes either," I say bitterly.

"That surprises me. It's not too big a stretch from dagger to sword if you account for the size difference."

My brow furrows in confusion, "From the time spent in attempting to learn the sword, I found a big difference. Sword fighting relies more on your physical strength, while daggers rely more on speed and precision."

Solace seems just as confused as I, "Who told you…Put on your armor, I'll wait for you downstairs. We'll fix the weapons issue after we speak to the companions."

She leaves the room and shuts the door, leaving me to change.

I unbuckle my old armor, removing it and folding it on the bed. I work with the chestpiece and tighten it all the way to the last notch. I enjoy the snug fit, and even enjoy the extra weight. It's not too heavy, but it is noticeably heavier than my old armor. Next comes the boots and gauntlets. I am uncertain about the helmet. It is made to cover the entire face of the wearer with a small, V-like slit for sight. I have never worn something like this.

Pulling the helmet on, I find my uncertainty was for naught. It fits nicely like the rest of the armor, and I can see better than the small opening would suggest. Wearing the armor and the helmet gives me a sense of security. Not just from the protection, but also being hidden from eyesight gives the illusion of being untouchable. Looking down to my Asgardian armor, I feel a little nostalgic. I'll miss my old armor. That armor though, is the armor of a Prince of Asgard. It is part of the story and song Odin made me dance to. It is the Armor of Lies, fitting for the god of lies.

I wave my hand over my old armor, sending it to my pocket dimension to be forgotten. No longer am I the god of lies. A god of lies would have seen through the falsities of his life. No, From now on, I will not be what Odin says I am, I will be what I say I am.

I gather myself,a and straighten my armor. This armor and I have a lot ahead of us and as I walk out the door, I find myself wondering, when the end of our adventure is met and the time to return to asgard arrives, who will I have become?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The CompanionsSolace's POV

As I stand near the front door, my gloves, mask and hood on and ready to go, I swing two glass swords, loving the way they cut through the air. I twirl them one last time before vanishing them into my inventory. Glass is light, and perfect for loki's fighting style. Speaking of... I turn my head as a hear the door upstairs open and armored feet against the wooden stairs. Observing the black-armored figure I think to myself, _I was right. It does suit him._

"How does it feel?" I ask.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs, and makes a show of fiddling with his armor as he walks my way.

"It will take some getting used to, but it fits well, and I like the feel of it," he says, his helm adding an almost metallic-like ring to his voice.

I nod once, "Good. May it serve you well."

Gesturing for Loki to follow I lead us out of the house and lock it behind us. The sun shines bright, indicating about mid-day. Tonight, will be the salvation of Whiterun. Or it's destruction. The Companions need to be made aware of the situation, and convinced to lend aid. Loki and I match pace as we set out to Jorrvaskr, stepping in time on the cobblestone road.

"Who exactly are the Companions?" Loki asks.

"The Companions are considered heroes and great warriors, and while it's true that they do good and fight well, they are more just glorified mercenaries. They are hired to do grunt work, like killing off a pack of wolves that's been causing trouble, or killing an escaped convict. They have a dislike for magic, though a higher tolerance for enchanting and alchemy. They value combat skills mostly, and you have to be at least somewhat decent in a weapon to join. I am friends with their leader, Kodlak, who sometimes consults me for jobs, and is one of the few I can bear to be around for longer than a minute."

I cannot see Loki's face, but I am sure he is annoyed. It seems he, like me, get annoyed with closed minded folk who think with their sword.

"That's an interesting construct," Loki says, referring to the upside down boat made into a building that is the Hall of Jorrvaskr.

I open the door to the right and enter the building, "Yes, quite."

The inside hasn't changed at all from the time I last was here. Though, a few new faces can be seen around the table. The drinking, eating and merriment comes to a halt as the door shuts noisily and the attention is turned to Loki and I.

Whispers start up again as Loki and I walk past to the living quarters. It seems that word has reached that there is an army at the door, and people are starting to wonder what's going on.

As I walk through the door, a metal chest bumps into me, a huff of air leaving my breast.

"Lydia!"

"My Jarl! I am so sorry! I should have watched where I was going!" the flustered housecarl babbled.

I grasp her shoulders to calm her, " **Drem** (peace). It's alright. I'm here to see Kodlak. Is he in his room?"

Lydia nods her head, "Yes my Thane, along with all of the inner circle. I believe they are discussing the soldiers outside whiterun. Then again, that is everyone's topic of discussion right now."

"Good. Come Lydia, you might as well hear this, as I do not want to repeat myself later."

With Loki and Lydia at my heels, I head to kodlak's room. The door is shut, and behind it I can hear arguing voices. When a knock on the door, the room goes quiet, then a gruff "Not now!" is shouted at the door. The voice, unmistakably Vilkas, is reprimanded and a soft "Come in" is heard. Kodlak.

I open the door to the inner circle sitting strewn out around the room, Kodlak in his chair, and Vilkas standing next to him.

"Ah! Solace, my dear! Come in!," Kodlak smiles warmly and gestures me forward to the chair next to him.

I feel all eyes on me and my followers as I sit, Loki and Lydia standing behind me.

"What brings you here?" the old man inquired.

"As I'm sure you all know, an army has come to Whiterun."

Though I already had their attention, I can feel their interest at my words.

"Two armies, to be exact. The Stormcloaks and the Imperials have both come to claim Whiterun, and await the Jarls decision."

As I expected, chaos erupts and everyone is demanding answers. Kodlak, though is silent as he meets my eyes, his age apparent in his eyes, so light a blue they are almost white. All of the Companions come to a hush as Kodlak raises a hand. When all is silent, he nods at me to continue.

"The Jarl, myself and others held counsel and have decided that neither side is worthy of allegiance and that if Whiterun was to join one, the ensuing battle would burn us to the ground."

I allow them to process the information for a while, and amongst the angry faces sat a confused one.

"Then...what are we going to do?" Farkas asks, voicing everyone's question.

Looking around the room I see determined faces, some laced with fear.

"A plan has been put into effect. Tonight, something from both camps will be stolen, and evidence that the other side did it planted. When light comes, a fight will ensue, giving distraction for archers to send flaming arrows into their supplies, and for their horses to be set loose. The forces left alive from the battle will have no choice left but to retreat and regroup."

By the silence, it seems no one knows what to say, or were waiting on Kodlak's word.

The old man asks, "What do you need of the Companions?"

"Archers. They don't have to be too precise, the tents are easy targets. We need archers on either side sending flaming arrows to the other. It has to look like they're doing it to each other."

Kodlak strokes his beard in thought, "It shouldn't be too difficult if we're careful. We'll have to be quick about it."

"Send the archers over the side of the walls," Vilkas says, ever the strategist, "Ladders won't be hard to get ahold of, and they won't be seen leaving the gates. Then have them hide behind the the rocks, broken walls and gates outside the city."

"Look," Aela the Huntress cut in, "I'm all for a hunt, but this is a bit above our pay grade."

"Which is why we won't ask to be paid!" Farkas interjected.

Skjor is disquieted by his statement, "We can't go around doing things for free! We have weapons and armor to pay for! And mouths to feed!"

"Enough," Kodlak states calmly.

"You can count on us," he informs me, "We will see Whiterun protected. I will sort out the squabble."

I nod in gratitude, "Thank you Harbinger. Your assistance is appreciated."

I stand up to leave, trusting Kodlak to do what needs to be done.

As we exit the building Lydia mumbles quietly, "So it's finally happened. The war has come to Whiterun."

" **Krosis** (sorrow)," I say to her, "It has."

"Why do I get the feeling nothing is going to be the same after tomorrow?"

I leave Lydia's question unanswered, because we both know the it will not.

"Lydia, head on home. Loki and I have one more thing to do here. Have dinner ready on our return."

"Yes, my Thane."

Lydia heads back to the house, and I take Loki around the sid of Jorrvaskr and into the training grounds out back.

I summon one of the glass swords and flip it around, presenting the pommel to Loki. He takes the sword from my slowly, obviously confused.

"What am I to do with this?" he asks.

"Show me what you were taught," I reply, drawing the other glass sword for myself.

Loki looks from his sword to me unsurely. At his hesitance, I add, "I think I might know why you had so much trouble with swordsmanship. **Bo.** Humor me."

He does and enters into an attack position. I nod to him and he charges me with an arch of his blade.

I deflect his swing easily, and sidestep. He turns back around and lets out a series of swings, each is blocked by my sword.

Huffing in frustration he snaps, "I don't understand the point of this. I told you that swords are not my strength."

" **Nid.** " I acknowledge, "But this is not your fault. You were taught wrong."

"It worked for my brother," he says bewildered.

"Your brother is a man of force and strength, you are a man of speed and precision. What works for him will not work for you."

Loki seems to consider my words.

"What am I doing wrong?" he finally inquires.

"You use blunt strength," I start, "Don't use as much effort. Watch me. Stand at the ready."

He returns to his fighting stance and I charge at him, but instead of attacking head on, I twirl both body and blade around his block and mimic a slice to his side, the blade hissing against his armor.

"Why attack head on, when you can attack from the side?" I implore.

"You fought with the sword as if you were fighting with a dagger," Loki says, surprise and intrigue coating his tone, "How?"

"As I said before. They are not that different. Let me show you," I hold my hand out for his sword.

He hands it over willingly, and I twirl both swords in different swipes, slashes and blocks in demonstration, then hand both swords to Loki, I say, "Treat them as you would your daggers, but mind their length."

He starts slow, but builds up speed. It is clear to me it will not take long for him to get the hang of it.

" **Pruzah.** Good." I summon to me my twin ebony blades, "Now. Attack me again."

He does so, and I see an immediate change. He twirls his left blade into a strike and I cross my swords in a block. His right blade, is flipped into a backwards grip and struck up behind where our swords our locked as he drags it through my block while crouching, coming up in a twirl similar to the one I performed on him. I chuckle as I feel one of his blades against by back while the other is pointed at my throat.

" **Pruzah** ," I twist my sword behind me, knocking his away from me while turning to face my opponent, "Again."


End file.
